Love in Motion
by The Feisty Rogue
Summary: Pairing Challenge: 1. Het: Rowena/Salazar 2. Fem: Padma/Luna 3. Slash: Albus/Gellert 4. Triad: Regulus/Luna/Barty 5. Cross-Gen: Draco/Rose 6. Marauder: Frank/Alice 7. Trio: Blaise/Daphne 8. Next-Gen: Teddy/Lily 9. Crack: Umbridge/Lucius 10. Family: Fleamont/Sirius
1. Rowena's Basilisk

Het: Rowena/Salazar

* * *

Rowena strode along the corridors of the castle, on the warpath. She turned a corner, and came face to face with Salazar, who immediately tried to hide whatever was in his hands behind his back.

"Salazar Slytherin," she growled.

He immediately became the picture of perfect innocence, and perhaps that had once worked on her when she had been young and naïve, but no longer.

"Where is it, you vile cur!" she snapped.

"Where is what?" he said, and began shuffling away from her, arms still hidden behind his back.

Rowena narrowed her eyes, and quick as a flash her wand was in her hand.

"Now, there is no need for that…" he wheedled, then with a yell, he turned and ran in the opposite direction.

"Do not think you can run from me!" she shouted, and took up the chase.

"Go get him, Ro!" Godric cried as they sprinted through the Great Hall. Even at a distance, she thought she could hear Helga's sigh of exasperation.

With a burst of speed Rowena hit Salazar with a tripping jinx just as he reached the grass. He tumbled to the ground, his precious cargo flying into the air. With a flick of her wand Rowena slowed the creature's fall. She stepped over a groaning Salazar, and caught the basilisk with her hands cupped together, wand jammed behind her ear.

"Hello there, Mama has got you now," she whispered. Beatrice hissed back up at her, tiny eyes blinking behind the protective film Rowena had invented for these very circumstances.

"But you are of the house of birds," Salazar whined pitifully. Rowena arched a brow, and not so accidentally nudged him in the side with her foot when she stepped back over him.

"Ow! Woman – the things you do to me!"

Rowena smirked. "You'll survive."

"All this – over a snake?" Godric said with disgust when she re-entered the Great Hall. Rowena glared at him, and he put his hands up in surrender.

"It is a great snake. A really, lovely, pretty snake," he corrected himself.

Salazar trailed pitifully behind her. "Please, if I could just touch her?"

She led the way to Beatrice's habitat, settled upon her desk. "Only if Beatrice says you may."

"Beatrice?" Salazar cried. "Her name is…" he paused, and hissed at Beatrice, and when Beatrice hissed back, a disgruntled expression appeared upon his face. "She does indeed claim her name is Beatrice," he reluctantly allowed.

Rowena tried, and failed to keep the smug expression off her face. They sat side by side, Salazar gently petting Beatrice, occasionally exchanging sibilant conversation with her.

"She is very intelligent, for a snake so young," he commented.

"Of course," Rowena sniffed. "I raised her."

Salazar chuckled. "You are very intelligent, as well, you know."

"I'm glad you think so. Perhaps I'll only make you sleep in the stables for one week, instead of two."

Salazar gasped, and placed a hand over his heart. "My cruel, cold wife, that you'd make me sleep in the stables at all is punishment enough. A whole week?"

"You stole Beatrice," Rowena retorted.

Salazar slipped his arm around her. "And to think, all this trouble could have been averted, if only I'd stolen you instead."

"Ha, as if you could." Rowena allowed him to kiss her on the cheek, and then she turned to whisper into his ear. "It is rather cold tonight, and I'll need someone to keep the bed warm. Perhaps your week of punishment could start tomorrow?"

"I'll take whatever respite you grant me," Salazar declared, and she allowed him to kiss her again.


	2. Moonlight

Fem: Padma/Luna

* * *

There was a tiny little firsty, with hair the colour of moonlight, and eyes just as bright, curled up in the corner of the Ravenclaw Common room, crying. Padma glanced about. It seemed as if nobody else had noticed, nor cared to. She cautiously approached, and placed a hand on the girl's shoulder.

"Are you alright?"

The girl blinked up at her, luminous eyes so wide Padma imagined she could see galaxies inside them.

"I'm afraid I'm rather left today," the girl replied.

Padma realised that this had to be the firsty she'd heard whispers about; Loony Luna Lovegood. Something inside her bristled at the cruel thoughtlessness of her peers, and so she sat down beside her.

"Some days I'm up, and some days I'm down," Padma said. "And I'm often right, and sometimes I'll be left." She winked as it was the greatest secret she'd ever shared.

Luna giggled, and Padma offered her a handkerchief. Luna took it, wiped away her tears, and then clutched at it awkwardly, glancing first at it, then Padma.

"Keep it. I've got others."

Luna folded it carefully, as if it was something precious, rather than just a hanky, and tucked it away in her pocket. "Thank you," she said gravely.

"You're welcome."

Padma continued with her day. Whenever she saw Luna after that, she made sure to always have a kind word for her, or even just a smile. The years passed, and the times grew darker, until one day she found herself in the Room of Requirement, watching with amazement as her patronus formed. It was an ethereal thing, shining brightly as it hopped from shoulder to shoulder, a beautiful silver hare.

"They're really quite pretty, aren't they," Luna said. Her gaze was distant, watching something that only she could see.

"Have you managed yours yet?"

Luna's gaze sharpened, and Padma felt as if she was caught in it, a galaxy of starlight, with herself at the centre.

"Not yet. But I think shall, quite soon," Luna said. She smiled absentmindedly, and reached into her pocket, stroking her fingers on a piece fabric tucked away there, in what seemed to be an unconscious mannerism. Padma realised, with amazement, that it was the handkerchief she had given Luna all those years ago.

"Expecto patronum!" Silver spellfire flew from the tip of Luna's wand, forming itself into the shape of a hare.

"Well done, Luna!" Harry cried as he walked past, grinning at Padma before hurrying on to help Neville.

"Pretty," Padma said faintly. "Yes, they are quite." She looked at Luna for what felt like the first time, and her heart fluttered at the look that Luna gave her in return.

"I see you've managed to chase away the nargles," Luna said. Padma smiled in delight, her soul singing with joy, and offered her hand. Luna twined their fingers together as if they'd been doing it forever.

"I'm alright, today," she whispered, as if it was the greatest secret she'd ever told, and Padma thought that perhaps it was.


	3. Upon Reflection

Slash: Albus/Gellert

* * *

"Even in death, your manipulations continue."

Albus looked up, and beamed with delight. There, as gloriously youthful as the last time Albus had seen him, was Gellert.

"I don't know at all what you mean," he replied. They stood together, overlooking a pool of enlightenment, from which they could observe the goings on of those still alive.

"You could at least pretend to be sad to see me," Gellert continued.

In the pool, Harry sat in a tent, pouring over The Tales of Beedle the Bard.

"And here I thought you welcomed death," Albus countered.

Gellert snorted. "I always was full of shit, and you never could tell the diamonds from the pigsty."

"The muggles have a delightful saying, you know. 'One man's trash is another man's treasure.'"

With a scoff, Gellert dashed his hand through the water. It settled upon Ollivander, trapped the Malfoy's basement. "He's there because of you."

Albus observed him solemnly for a moment. "Yes, I know," he said. "I have made a lot of mistakes in my life, caused a lot of suffering."

He dipped a finger in the water, and it rippled, revealing the twisted and tormented form of Tom Riddle. "But this was my greatest failing, I'm sure."

"Bah, you're full of yourself, aren't you? That boy was never going to go down another path. Trust me. I would know."

Albus gave Gellert his full attention. "And that's where we'll always differ, you and I. I will always believe that even the worst of us can be redeemed."

"Yes, and that was what got you killed, wasn't it?" Gellert said, his gaze scornful.

Albus tentatively extended a hand, brushing his fingers over Gellert's knuckles. Gellert arched a brow and just looked at Albus' old, wrinkled hands, covered in liver spots, wrapping around the back of his own perfect fingers.

"In death, we can be whoever we like to be," Albus said, and as he spoke the age faded from his body, until he was as youthful and vibrant as the man before him. "And I would very much like to be the sort of man who can forgive you."

Gellert looked at him with knowing eyes, and said nothing. But he laced their fingers together, and Albus smiled.


	4. Dark Lady Luna

"My Lady," Barty knelt before her throne, in silver robes so fine they almost looked to be spun from moonlight.

"Yes, dear one?" Luna replied, beckoning him closer with a crook of her fingers.

"I have finally found our third." Barty exposed his left wrist, and stroked his fingers along the fine black band of ink that circled it. Luna took both his hands in her own, and brushed her lips along the silver band that curled around his right. They were their soulbands. Most only received one, but Luna, and her partners, had been lucky enough to lay claim to two.

Luna had her own black band of course, also adorning her right wrist, and a blue one on her left, the colour of Barty's eyes.

"His name?"

"Regulus Black."

* * *

Regulus shuffled awkwardly, pulling his sleeves down over his wrists as he waited to be allowed entry to the Dark Lady's throne room. Current fashion was to expose your soulbands, but so few had one on each wrist that Regulus was stared at wherever he went.

The doors silently opened, and Regulus took a breath to steal himself, before walking in.

Lady Luna sat upon her throne, and her soulmate knelt on a pillow beside her. There was no one else in attendance, and Regulus shivered. He dared risk a glance at the Dark Lady, and when he met her silver gaze, he felt as if he could not look away, as if there was nothing else in the world to see but the lady before him.

The doors swung shut behind him, and it was enough of a shock for Regulus to come to his senses. He dropped to his knees, averting his gaze, her soulmate's burning blue eyes almost as enchanting.

"My Lady," he said. "You wished to see me?"

"Regulus," she said, her voice so full of joy he nearly jumped. She stood, and paced toward him, and he couldn't help but shake with a mixture of fear and something else that was far more intangible. "You have two soulbands, do you not?"

Regulus closed his eyes for a moment, before offering his hands to her, palms up. Her hands were cool when she brushed back his sleeves, and gently traced each band.

"Silver, for me," she said, "and blue, for Barty."

Panicked, Regulus looked up, and found that Bartimus Crouch had taken his right wrist, as Lady Luna inspected his left. Their own soulbands were on show, and he trembled, realising that he was their perfect match, the completion to their triad.

"Welcome, Consort Black, to my court," Lady Luna said.

* * *

So, I accidentally wrote some smut to tag onto the end of this, but the challenge I'm writing this for doesn't allow anything like that, so if you're interested you can find it here: s/12609797/1/to-the-moon-and-back


	5. Rose's Adventure

Cross-Gen: Draco/Rose

* * *

Rose rolled her eyes as Professor Fairbanks droned on about the second wizarding war. Yes, fine, it was an interesting topic, but at every single family meet up her parents seemed lecture them about the horrors of the war, and how lucky she was that she hadn't had to live through it.

At age eleven, her parents had taken on a mountain troll, and won. At age thirteen, Mum had been travelling through time. At age fifteen, Uncle Harry had competed in and won the TriWizard tournament. Rose was seventeen, and had done nothing more exciting in her life than sleep with Teddy Lupin while he and Victoire were on a break, and even that she'd gotten in trouble for.

Finally, they were dismissed. Rose strode away from her classmates, and headed toward the seventh-floor corridor, where more often than not she could sit and work in peace and quiet. She paced along it angrily, wishing that she'd been the one to go on an adventure, not her parents, who would surely lecture her about the dangers of a herd of unicorns should she come across them.

Suddenly, she froze. Before her was a door that had never been there before, forming out of the stone wall. She stared at it in shock, then, taking her wand in hand, strode through it.

Inside was a room unlike anything she'd ever seen in Hogwarts. Its ceiling were arched like the inside of a cathedral, and it was packed full of books and gadgets and all sorts of junk.

"Who are you?" a voice snarled. Rose spun, wand at the ready. A Slytherin boy sneered back at her. He had the look of a Malfoy, but certainly wasn't Scorpius.

"Rose," she replied archly.

"I don't recognise you. You're not one of Potter's, are you?" he asked, disdain evident in his voice as he eyed her Ravenclaw robes.

"No," Rose spat. "And I don't know why people keep making that mistake." Sure, she looked a little bit like Lily, but her hair was much wilder and she was far cleverer.

The boy relaxed. "Oh good." He still looked suspicious. "What are you doing in here?"

"I might ask the same of you," she said. Behind him, her gaze caught on something magnificent. "Is that a vanishing cabinet?"

"Yes. Why?"

Rose ignored him, and strode closer. It was turned on its side, and she could see that all its runes were out of alignment. "It's terribly broken, isn't it?"

"Yes," the boy hissed, angry again. She noted the books sprawled about the floor.

"I'll help you fix it," she decided, and sat herself on the floor beside the cabinet.

After a moment or two, the boy joined her. "Can you?"

"Ha!" Rose rolled her eyes. "Of course I can."

They sat side by side, poking and prodding at the broken cabinet with their wands for what felt like an age, challenging each other to do better, throwing up ideas, and finding inspiration in each other's company. Whenever a rune slotted into place, Rose would exclaim with delight, and exchange a look of glee with the boy next to her, and he would do the same, silver eyes so very wide with amazement.

"I can't believe it," the boy whispered. "I was so sure…" he gulped, and shivered, his gaze turning distant and scared.

Rose placed her hand on his own. "It's nearly done."

He turned, and treated her with a smile. Together, they wrestled the last rune into submission.

"Rose, you did it!" the boy exclaimed, his eyes shining with joy. Suddenly, he kissed her, soft and sweet. "Thank you," he said. "Thank you."

"Do you think, after all this, I could see you again?" Rose cautiously asked. She'd never enjoyed another person's company so much in her life.

"Are you sure? You might not want to," the boy said. "After…" He gulped, and shook his head.

Rose laughed, and got to her feet. "Of course I will." She checked the time, and gasped. "Shit! I'm running late." She kissed him again for good luck, and he smiled, dazed.

"What's your name?" she called as she strode toward the door, pushing it open.

"Draco, Draco Malfoy," he said, just as the door swung shut behind her.

Rose froze. She turned back, only to find the door fading away. She scrambled at it, but it didn't open. No matter what spells she cast, only wall remained.

"Let me in!" she screamed at it.

Distantly, she remembered one of Dad's stories about the Room of Requirement, where the DA had hidden from Voldemort's forces in the castle. It had been on the seventh floor, coming and going without a trace, and thought to have been destroyed during the war. Franticly she paced back and forth before the wall.

The door formed. She pushed back in, but the room had changed entirely. It was completely empty, with nothing but scorch marks to show that anyone had ever been there before.

Draco Malfoy. The words felt sour upon her tongue.

Surely… it couldn't have been.

But Draco Malfoy had been fixing up a vanishing cabinet once, before the war had truly started. It had taken him a year. Then he'd used it to let Death Eaters into the castle, and her Uncle Bill had been severely wounded, and Dumbledore had died. A sickening feeling curdled in her gut, and Rose knelt, and puked up her lunch.

She sobbed into her arms for several minutes, crying for herself, for Draco, for all that had happened. She eventually calmed by taking deep, rasping breaths. With a final sniff, she collected herself, and cleaned up the room. Taking one last look around, she walked out, resolving never to return.

Now, she understood her mother's warnings about arrogance, and her father's sorrow when he talked about late Uncle Fred. Rose almost felt as if she ought to find Uncle Bill and apologise, not that it would do much good.

Careful what you wish for, she thought bitterly, for truly, her adventure hadn't been an adventure at all.


	6. Fourteen Inch Wand

Marauder: Frank/Alice

* * *

"Will, you, uh, Alice, uh, I don't suppose that, um, if you would like-"

"ALICE BROWN!" Black bellowed, from the other end of Gryffindor table, and Frank flinched. Alice turned away from where she'd been kindly listening to him, and arched an imperious brow.

"Yes?"

Black grinned, his grey eyes gleaming mischievously. "Will you go to Hogsmede with me?"

"As if," Alice retorted, and Frank wasn't sure if he should be relieved, because she'd said no to the most handsome boy in their house, or devastated, because if she'd said no to Black, why on earth would she say yes to him?

"Aw, come on Brown. Just me and you, and some time spent practising our wand work?"

All the boys at the table laughed, bar Frank, who would have debated cursing Black in defence of Alice's honour if he hadn't known that she was perfectly capable of looking after herself.

"Sirius, darling," Alice purred. "I'm surprised to learn you even have a wand. The only thing I've ever seen you wave about is a tiny little twig, and let me tell you sweetheart, it's not that impressive."

Frank couldn't hold back a snort of laughter, and Alice turned to wink at him.

"Now, Frank here, he's got a real wand. What was it? Fourteen inches?"

Frank knew he was blushing bright red. "That's right," he said, barely managing not to stutter.

"It's what you do with it that counts!" Black yelled.

Frank took a deep breath, steeling himself, then turned to Black.

"I've more talent with a wand than you'll ever have," he said. He discretely flicked his wand, and Black's messy hair turned a bright, bubblegum pink. Normally, he wouldn't dare prank one of the Marauders, as their retaliation was vicious, but from the way that Lupin and Potter were spluttering with laughter, while even Pettigrew grinned, he felt he'd gotten away with it.

"My hair!" Black shrieked.

"Nice one," Alice murmured.

Despite being beet red with embarrassment, Frank grinned. "I don't suppose you'd like to go to Hogsmede with me?" he managed to force out, while everyone else paid attention to Black's dramatics.

"I'd love to." Alice laced their fingers together, and her smile was so beautiful he felt his heart might just explode.

"First my hair, and then my girl!" Black cried. "You sly bandit!" Black was grinning, however, and he didn't seem to be particularly devastated.

"I'm not your anything," Alice declared. "Us girls can't be owned, we're not cattle, isn't that right Lily?"

Evans looked up from her book, narrowed her eyes at Potter, and sniffed. "Quite right, Alice. I don't see why you even bother with boys at all."

"Oh, my heart!" Potter cried, amid laughter and jeers. Frank grinned, for Potter's devotion to Evans was infamous.

"One day, uh, she'll give in," he predicted to Alice.

Alice grinned. "And I think that day might be sooner than anyone else thinks."

They exchanged a glance, then turned to look at Evans, who was sneaking looks at Potter as the boys messed around trying to fix Black's hair.

"As long as she's not after you, I'll be happy for her," Alice said with a wicked smirk.

Frank flushed with pleasure. "You're the only one for me," he promised.


	7. Oblivious

Trio: Blaise/Daphne

* * *

"And have you seen his eyes?" Draco cried, throwing his hands up in frustration. He was striding back and forth before the Common Room fire. There was a pause, and Blaise realised that Draco was actually waiting for a response.

"Oh yes," he replied, not bothering to look up from where he was filing his nails.

"Exactly! They're just so… so… green. Who even has eyes that green? It's not natural, I'm telling you. And his hair – it's always messy. Doesn't he have even a modicum of decorum? Nobody should be allowed out looking like that. Arg! Bloody Potter. One day I'm going to show him what for. That stupid smile of his – I'm going to knock it off his face. I hate him. I just hate him."

"Mmhmm," Blaise said, exchanging an amused glance with Daphne. She winked at him, passing over her Potions homework, and he passed back his History essay.

"He doesn't even bother with proper robes! Those ugly muggle trousers just cling to him like – like – oh, I don't know, something clingy. They're so form fitting, so tight, it's awful."

Blaise eyed the perfectly tailored suit trousers Draco wore under his school robe, taking a moment to admire the way they framed his pert arse.

"Indecent," he agreed. Daphne caught him in the act, and raised a brow. Blaise shrugged, and winked at her, before turning back to rewording her Potions assignment into something he could submit as his own.

"And have you see the way he holds his wand?" At this, Blaise barely managed to stifle a snort of laughter. "It's abnormal, how he clutches at it, as if he's holding on for dear life. Ha! No pureblood would ever deign to be so desperately attached to their wand."

"He does have a firm grip upon the shaft," Blaise said. Daphne's eyes were twinkling, but she bowed her head over her parchment, and coughed in order to disguise her giggles.

"Are you alright there?" Draco asked, disinterestedly turning to look at her.

"Quite alright," Daphne said in a strangled voice. Draco resumed his pacing.

"One day, Potter is going to get what's coming to him, and I'm going to be the one to give it to him."

"You do that, Draco. You give it to him, real good," Blaise said, barely managing to keep his face straight. Draco shot him a peculiar look, eyes narrowed as if he could sense that Blaise was mocking him, even if he wasn't sure how. Blaise gazed solemnly back, and Draco nodded his head sharply.

"That's right. I will." Draco slumped into an armchair, and actually took note of what Blaise was doing. "Is that our potions homework? Hand it over, will you?"

Blaise glanced at Daphne, arching an inquisitive brow. She shrugged her acquiescence, so he gave the parchment to Draco.

"Sure, I'm done with it anyway." He began packing his books away, and tapped the cover of a rental that was a due the next day. "I'm taking this back to the library."

"I'll come with you. I fancy stretching my legs," Daphne said. Draco didn't look up, engaged in reading Daphne's essay.

"See you later," he mumbled, waving them off. "And curse Potter for me, if you see him."

Blaise's lips twitched, and he offered his arm to Daphne, who took it with the easy grace of the gentlewoman that she was. The moment they left the common room, he snorted with amusement, Daphne giggle beside him.

"When do you think that he's going to realise?"

"What? That he'd like to show Potter exactly how to hold his wand? With our luck, it'll be years."

Daphne was laughing even as she drew him closer, her lips pink and inviting, and Blaise smiled into the kiss. "He's utterly oblivious," she said.

"Mmm," Blaise hummed against her soft mouth. "In the end it's his loss, our gain. He'd never leave us alone if he knew about this."

Daphne dragged her hand down his chest, and he could feel the warmth of it through his shirt.

"Didn't you have a library book to return?" she asked, her eyes gleaming with mischief. He groaned when she pulled away from him, and instead linked their arms.

"As my lady commands," he said, and led the way.


	8. All His Life

Next-Gen: Teddy/Lily

* * *

Teddy had known that he was going to marry Lily all his life. He'd never thought anything different, not when Lily dated first the boys, then the girls in her year, then decided that she was never going to date again. He didn't know how he knew, other than that the Blacks were sometimes gifted with hereditary magic, and when he'd confided in Gran, she'd told him that perhaps it wasn't just his metamorphmagus powers he'd gained from her bloodline, but a little bit of foresight as well.

They became the best of friends, and he was always there to pick her up when she fell down, be it problems at work, or annoying reporters, or that Malfoy boy who seemed certain that he would be the one to win her heart. He took her out stargazing one night, because he liked to think that his parents were up there, with Sirius, and the all of the other people that would have still been around, if not for the wars.

"You're my best friend," Lily told him, as they held hands and watched for shooting stars.

Teddy turned on his side so as better to look her in the eye. "You're my everything, Lily Luna," he said, as serious as could be.

"Oh," Lily said, and raised a hand to his cheek, gently framing her fingers along his jaw. "Oh."

He smiled and rolled away, content to pick out his favourite constellations. And after that night, Lily would sometimes look at him as if he was a particularly confusing puzzle, but nothing else changed, and he was perfectly happy. He was willing to wait forever for Lily to put the pieces together.

The day came when he least expected it. He was grumpy, as the full moon was close, and Lily had been on edge all week and wouldn't tell him what was wrong. She suddenly surged forward, knocking the cups and saucers and plates off the table that sat between them, and kissed him so hot and sweet he thought he might burn up on the spot.

"Alright?" she asked, her eyes wary when she pulled back. Teddy beamed and took her hand in his own.

"Never better," he said, and wondered how to tell her than Gran had been planning their wedding since Teddy had been eight years old.


	9. Naughty Boy

Crack: Umbridge/Lucius

* * *

"You've been a very naught boy," Madam Umbridge said, and cracked a ruler over her palm. Lucius cowered in his seat, wishing he'd not done… not done… whatever it was that he'd done to put himself in this situation. There were in her office, the walls a horrific bright pink, and endless pictures of kitten trapped in china plates adorned them.

"Now, bend over my desk."

Lucuis blinked, and he was leaning on his forearms on Umbridge's desk, trousers about his knees and arse exposed to the cool air of her office, with no idea how he'd got there.

"I really must object!" he began, before she brought the ruler down with a snap. He jolted forward with a groan of pain, but she didn't give him any time to gather himself, bringing the ruler down again and again.

"You naughty, naughty, boy," she said, alternating words with vicious slaps from the ruler. Each distinct hit blurred together until all he could feel was a dull throb of burning pain.

"Are you sorry?"

"Yes!" Lucius cried. "Yes, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!"

"You vile, perverted, boy," she sneered.

That was when Lucius realised he was beginning to get hard. He moaned as one particularly hard spank thrust him into the desk, a curious conflict of pain and arousal, and then shuddered in disgust.

"Oh, what's this then?" Umbridge teased, feeling around his front and clutching at his member with her chubby hand. "What a silly sausage we have here!"

Lucius awoke with a gasp, and frantically looked about the room. Only Narcissa lay in bed beside him, and Lucius shivered, curling himself up beside her. He stroked a hand down her soft flank, and she sighed.

"Mm, Lucius? What's the matter?"

Lucius kissed her cheek and wrapped himself around her. "Nothing my dear. Only a bad dream."


	10. Welcome to the Family

Family: Fleamont/Sirius

* * *

"Sirius? Can I have a word?"

Sirius, eyes wide like a deer, wordlessly nodded. Fleamont bit back a smile, and inclined his head. James, the rascal, got up to follow, but Fleamont arched a single disapproving brow, and he sunk back into his seat. Mia, he knew, would keep the boy there, so he wouldn't eavesdrop, as was his usual mischievous wont.

Sirius looked terrified to be sitting in Fleamont's Office, and he could only hope that would change with time. He poured them both a whiskey, and Sirius eyed his tumbler with wary surprise.

"You drink it," Fleamont joked. Sirius promptly took a sip. He didn't splutter, but it was to be expected, as Fleamont had suspected that James and Sirius had been getting their own whiskey for years.

"Now, I'd like to talk to you about your place in this house," Fleamont began.

"I'm sorry sir!" burst Sirius. "I'm sorry, I said to James that I'd just stay a few days, I won't stay any longer, honest, you don't have to worry."

Fleamont frowned, crossing his arms. "Sirius, what have I told you before about assuming things?"

Sirius gulped. "To assume… is to make an ass out of me and you."

"Quite correct. Now, as I was saying. I'd like to talk to you about your place in this house. It's come to my attention that you're no longer welcome at your family home?"

"They're not my family," Sirius spat, then looked down, abashed. "Yes sir, that's right."

"Hmpf," Fleamont said. Personally, he couldn't see any reason why he would no longer welcome James into his home, but the Blacks had always been a peculiar family.

"Well, in that case, I think we better make you up a permanent room here, don't you think? No son of mine needs to sleep on the floor of James' bedroom. I'm surprised there's space, what with all the mess."

Sirius' jaw gaped open. "Son," he stuttered.

Fleamont nodded decisively. "That's right. For years James has been saying that he thinks of you as his brother, and sadly Mia and I are no longer in good enough health to be providing James with a younger sibling."

"Brother," Sirius mouthed.

"So, I wanted to officially welcome you into our family. I don't want there to be any misunderstandings. Mia, and myself, consider you to be our son, and we have for a long while now."

"Really?" Sirius croaked.

"Really," Fleamont replied.

"Oh, sir, thank you sir," Sirius said, his eyes glistening, and threw himself forward into a hug. Fleamont patted him on the back gently, and pretended he hadn't seen the tears at all. He cleared his throat.

"I believe there's some cake for you, in the kitchen, if you like."

"My greatest weakness; cake," Sirius joked.

Fleamont led the way back into the kitchen, giving Sirius some time to collect himself. Mia had obviously broken the news to James, and they were hovering about an enormous chocolate cake, with 'Welcome to the Family' iced into it.

"Alright Siri?" James cried, punching him on the shoulder in what Fleamont presumed was an affectionate manner.

"Yeah," Sirius said, and smiled at Fleamont. "I'm doing just great."


End file.
